


Sleepless Nights

by Barricade_Boys



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Era, Drunk Grantaire, Enjolras Being An Idiot, Enjolras Has Feelings, Les Amis de l'ABC Shenanigans, M/M, Sleep Deprivation, Stubborn Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 20:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15670632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barricade_Boys/pseuds/Barricade_Boys
Summary: Enjolras is a stubborn man. His friends accepted that fact a long time ago. And he was refusing to sleep. He had not slept in over a week. And Combeferre was becoming increasingly concerned for his friend.Enjolras remains functional. Until one night when a storm hits Paris and his friends turn up seeking refuge in his and Combeferre's apartment.In which, Grantaire helps Enjolras to relax so much that he finally falls asleep. And admits his true feelings.





	Sleepless Nights

***

Enjolras stared at the paper in front of him, his fingers tracing the words printed in writing before his face. He laced the feather with ink before writing, his words flowing onto the page with delicacy. 

Enjolras' heart was low, his eyes heavy. He had not slept in days, the revolution plans had overtaken all personal care. And of course, his friends had noticed. They had been concerned and had attempted to drug him to sleep. But Enjolras was a stubborn man. He wouldn't take it. And he wouldn't sleep, not until the monarchy was demolished. Or until he felt like he completely needed to so not to collapse in a meeting. 

"Enjolras, come on. You have to sleep." Combeferre had tried, and failed, to tell him. The pair had rented the flat above the Café together, regularly inviting the others to stay over with them. "Enjolras, you will make yourself sick." 

"I am alright." He threw his hands up in the air. Combeferre was a worrier, it was in his blood to be concerned. He was a kind man. But he was too concerned. 

Marius, his most wealthy friend, had offered to pay for some pills to help him sleep. Enjolras had scoffed at the thought. He was wealthy himself, his parents were well respected in the society of France. 

"Go to bed, Enjolras. I mean it." Combeferre warned. "You will be no good to the revolution in this state." 

Enjolras glanced up at him, his eyes did feel heavy. But he had to finish this letter. It was a letter to his Mother, one that would only ever be posted if he had died an honourable death for the cause that he so desperately believed in. 

"I will sleep." Enjolras promised, falsely. He didn't feel relaxed enough to sleep. He was tense and on edge. Not to mention, he was uncomfortable. 

"No, you will not." Combeferre huffed, throwing him a blanket. "Just, stay warm." He said. 

It was a winter's night in Paris. The dark sky outside was frost bitten and dense. The clouds in the air had shivered into a stone-still beacon over the city. 

"I don't want you catching the flu." Combeferre said. 

Enjolras rolled his eyes and nodded. 

"Alright. I will try remain warm." 

"You could remain warm in your bed." Marius said, his voice quiet from behind the taller man. Combeferre agreed. 

"Precisely, come and sleep." 

Enjolras shook his head, his neck aching. He was a stubborn man. His body was tired. But he wasn't going to sleep, not a chance. His head clocked upwards at the sound of a knock on the wooden door of their flat. The storm was raging outside of the Café.

Combeferre opened the door, his mouth curving into a smile at the sight of his friends: Courfeyrac, Grantaire, Joly and Jehan. Enjolras glared over at them, their clothing dripping from the rain. A draught of wind flushed into the room as Combeferre slammed the block of wood, ushering his friends into the warmth. 

"What brings you here?" He questioned, walking into his room to fetch some clothing for their friends. 

Courfeyrac cleared his throat, kneeling down to face the flames of the fire.

"Our homes have flooded." He said, his Irish accent stronger than usual because of his freezing form. His brown hair fell in front of his eyes, meaning he was barely able to see his dry friends. 

Marius placed a pan on the boil, filling it with water. He almost burnt his hand on the flame, his natural instincts kicking in quickly to withdraw his hand. 

"Are you really that incompetent?" Enjolras asked, dawdling behind him carrying his friend's wet clothes to the fire in the kitchen. 

Marius shuffled in his stance, shivering at the coldness both in the air and in Enjolras' voice.

"You must sleep." He said, plainly. "You're not good company when you are like this." 

Enjolras huffed and placed the clothing on a bit of string in front of the stove. 

"I can not sleep, Marius." 

Grantaire, the oldest of the group, stood at the door with his back against the wall. He was colder than he'd ever been before. 

"But why?" 

"Because, Marius, I can not." Enjolras said, walking out of the room. He faced Grantaire, breathing in his scent. "Have you been drinking?" 

Grantaire swallowed hard, his shame almost certainly obvious and showing to the man that made him want to cower. Grantaire felt things for Enjolras that no man should feel for someone of the same gender as themselves.

Grantaire adored Enjolras. He was his idea of an angel, his definition of perfection. Enjolras was driven, ambitious and full of wit. Grantaire was none of those things. And he was beautifully structured; his face was sculptured by God himself, Grantaire believed. He was well-proportioned and had the most ravishing smile. 

Though, very few people got to bear witness to that smile, Grantaire was blessed enough to have seen it. He had been able to make Enjolras smile. 

"Grantaire, I ask again, have you been drinking?" Enjolras' voice was smooth, yet filled with accusation. Grantaire knew it made him mad, knew that Enjolras hated alcohol. But he didn't know why. 

"I may have been." 

Enjolras sighed. He pushed past Grantaire and sat back down at his desk. 

"There is to be no drinking within these walls, Grantaire." He spoke with a cruel tone. "None whatsoever." 

Joly and Courfeyrac handed Grantaire his dry clothes, borrowed from Combeferre. He looked down at the shirt in his hand and blushed. He was shorter than the others. And thinner. These wouldn't fit. 

"I will remain in these, thank you." Grantaire gave the clothes back to Combeferre, showing gratitude with a small smile. 

Courfeyrac licked his lips, feeling the fabric warm him up almost instantly. 

"You must change." Combeferre told him. "You will catch your death staying in those clothes." 

Enjolras scrunched his nose up, looking at Grantaire with judging eyes. The man was too small to fit into Combeferre's clothes. He would look ridiculous. 

"Your clothes will not fit me." Grantaire took the thought from Enjolras' mind. 

The blonde man paced into his room, grabbing a white shirt, green waistcoat, blue jacket; to compliment his blue eyes, and black trousers from his drawer. He picked up some socks and shoes, also and called Grantaire over. 

Grantaire shuffled awkwardly into Enjolras' room, looking around at the tidiness and array of objects. 

"Here." Enjolras handed the smaller man the fabric in his hand. 

Grantaire stammered a little, taken aback by the gesture. Enjolras would usually be ignoring him. He despised him. He repulsed the man he adored. 

"Thank you." Grantaire said, receiving a small smile from the man opposite him. "This is a nice room." 

"Yeah." Enjolras said, bluntly. 

"Have you slept yet?" Grantaire asked. He had overheard Marius and Combeferre discussing the matter at a Les Amis meeting a few days ago. "Only, I'm concerned."

Enjolras furrowed his eyebrows, his face looking disgusted at the brunette. 

"Sorry, I did not mean to intrude-" 

"I have not slept, no." Enjolras put his hand onto Grantaire's shoulder. "But I will. Once I get this letter finished." 

Grantaire shivered at the touch, Enjolras usually tried to remain as far away from human contact as possible. 

"Do you mean that?" Grantaire's eyes illuminated in the moonlight draping in from the window. 

Enjolras nodded. 

"I promise you, Grantaire." He placed his forehead against his elder. "I promise you." 

Combeferre grunted from the door, making the two leap apart. 

Grantaire lifted his shirt off, drying himself on a towel that Enjolras had handed him. The leader couldn't help but keep his eyes fixed on the thinner man. He was thin but his body was endearing; the lines on his stomach not too dominant. He put Enjolras' shirt on, then the emerald waistcoat and buttoned it up, the scent of his sweet friend still laced in the cloth. He pulled the trousers up and smirked at the length. Enjolras was slightly taller than Grantaire. 

"Whilst you are here, will you assist us in getting our dear leader to sleep?" Marius asked, his voice trying to be quiet.

"Has he still not slept?" Joly asked, strolling his hands through his straight hair. 

"I'm sure he will." Courfeyrac said. "He is not a fool." 

Combeferre looked at his blonde friend, the man had still sat with his back against them, his focus back on the letter in front of him. 

"Enjolras?" 

Enjolras turned around, his face illuminated only by the candle on the desk in front of him. 

"General Lamarque is unwell." Courfeyrac stated. "I was told today." 

Enjolras nodded, processing the information with a lump in his throat.

"Right." He nodded. 

Joly looked down at his twiddling thumbs, his heart sinking a little. General Lamarque's illness was bad, it meant that they were to have nobody in Parliament to stand up for their classes. 

Enjolras and Marius, of course, were Upper Class. They were both from wealthy families. Not that they flaunted it. Combeferre and Grantaire came from Middle Class families, not that you would guess from Grantaire's appearance. 

The man was slobbish. He woke in the morning and didn't touch his hair, he left it in a frizz. His clothes were a little stylish. He was an artist, so his colours always matched. 

Joly, Jehan and Courfeyrac were from the poorer half of the Middle Class. They were all students, every one of them studying where their hearts lay. 

"I was speaking with a boy today, a boy called Gavroche, he stated his interest in our cause." Courfeyrac said. "He's only young, though." 

"We can't have children involved." Jehan said, his body still quivering. "Not with what may happen to us." 

They were all very much aware of the implications that threatened them for protesting against the Monarchy of France. They could be thrown in Prison, forced to work as slaves on a ship or killed for treason. 

"But he was passionate." Courfeyrac said. "So passionate." 

"How old was the boy?" Jehan inquired.

"I'd guess about eleven." 

"Where were his parents?"

"I believe he was homeless." Courfeyrac stated. "So, nowhere."

"Eleven and without parents - that's preposterous." Joly piped up. "This country is in such a state."

Enjolras put his head into his hands, his eyes forcing themselves shut. Grantaire hadn't taken his eyes off of his apollo since they had re-entered the room. Though he looked exhausted, he still looked appealing to Grantaire. His blonde curls balanced nicely against his piercingly blue eyes.

"Enjolras! What do you say?" Combeferre quizzed, loudly, making Enjolras' eyes open - alerted. 

"Hm?" 

"The boy, Gavroche, could he join the revolution?" Courfeyrac repeated himself. Enjolras nodded, not knowing what they were speaking of.

"If he wants to join, so be it. If he is trustworthy, allow him in." Enjolras said, his brain like mush. 

Grantaire sniggered. 

"The boy is eleven." He stated.

Enjolras pursed his lips and smiled at the brunette. 

"I knew that."

Grantaire squinted his eyes and grinned, sticking his tongue out. Enjolras snickered at him. Combeferre pulled a confused expression, his eyebrows furrowing at the exchange between the two men beside him. 

"It's getting later by the minute." Marius said, receiving a snigger from the others.

"Wow Marius, you've discovered the concept of time." Joly jived, making Marius blush. 

Marius flushed a red tone, his cheeks burning.

"You know what I meant. It's bedtime." Marius stammered, stepping up from his seat on the floor. 

"You left the stove on." Enjolras squinted, rolling his eyes at his friend's stupidity. 

He stood up and stepped over Combeferre, his dozy form almost tripping over Grantaire, who caught his ankle and straightened him up. Enjolras felt so dizzy. He walked into the kitchen and switched the stove off, lifting the saucepan. His hand shook a little, his eyes drifting off. 

"I forgot." Marius spoke unexpectedly, making Enjolras jump a little, losing control of his hand and allowing the saucepan to fall on top of his left hand. "Sorry." Marius said, flushing. 

"Have you burnt yourself?" Combeferre quizzed, making his way to the small medical kit that he owned. 

Enjolras threw his arms in the air. 

"I'll be okay." He said, pushing Combeferre away. Grantaire looked at his hand, it had already reddened and looked sore.  Enjolras was left handed, he could hardly write his letter now. 

"You must let me see to that." 

"No, Combeferre. I'm okay." 

Grantaire chewed the inside of his mouth, standing and walking over to his friend. If he had learnt anything in the past few hours, it was that Enjolras may have a small soft spot for him, for some reason. 

"I will see to it, if you would like?" 

Combeferre and Enjolras both turned to look at the smaller man, their eyebrows furrowing. Combeferre assumed that Enjolras would remain stubborn and refuse help, but he wavered. 

"See, Grantaire will see to it." Enjolras said. 

Combeferre noticed Grantaire's eyes illuminate. 

"Get yourselves off to bed." Enjolras said, bidding them goodnight. 

"Alright." Combeferre frowned. 

Enjolras' head was spinning, his mind in a state of disarray and confusion. His brain was exhausted. 

Grantaire sat Enjolras down on his bed, the blonde protesting in a haze that he would let nobody but he touch him. The brunette knelt down and applied moisturiser that Combeferre had given him to the raw burn on his hand, soothing it with gentle circling movements. 

"Thank you, Grantaire." Enjolras smiled at the older man, his smile honest and genuine. 

Grantaire gave a little grin in return, his main concern being the bandage that needed to be wrapped around Enjolras' hand. 

"Why have you not been sleeping?" Grantaire asked. 

Enjolras flinched as Grantaire touched the burn with his warm hand, his teeth gritting in retaliation. 

"Sorry." Grantaire said, sincerely. 

"I haven't told anyone this." Enjolras admitted. "So if it gets around, I know it was you." 

"You can trust me." Grantaire told him, the blue in his eyes drawing Enjolras in. 

"I know I can." Enjolras smiled, using his right hand to wipe the dirt from Grantaire's nose. "My Mother sent me a letter a week ago today." 

"Oh." Grantaire bit his lip, wrapping the bandage around his hand. 

"Oh indeed." He sighed. "My Father has disowned me because of all this. She wants to meet me one day, to check I am alright." He told him, making Grantaire look up. 

"Are you going to see her?" 

"Well, that is just it. That is the issue. I do not know what to do." Enjolras admitted, his voice conveying the hurt he felt. 

Grantaire took hold of Enjolras' hand and smiled. 

"I think you should." He told him. "It would be good for you to get some closure." 

Enjolras stared down at the smaller man with a confused expression. This man, Grantaire, confused him so much. He was infuriating. He was addictive and he made Enjolras nervous, for some reason. 

"I do not want to go alone, is all." 

"I can go with you." Grantaire shrugged, as if the suggestion was nothing. As if he already knew the answer would be no. Or thought he did. 

"You will?" Enjolras beamed, his face lighting up a little. He looked at Grantaire in his eyes, pooling with admiration. 

"I will, if you want me to." 

"I would love for you to meet my Mother." Enjolras said. 

Grantaire was conflicted now. Was that a declaration? He didn't know, he was lost. But he liked the sentiment all the same. Enjolras' tired and aching body yearned for nothing more than to hold Grantaire there. He wanted nothing less than to kiss him. 

"Grantaire-"

Grantaire flinched a little, not expecting Enjolras' lips to land on his own. The blonde man entered Grantaire's mouth, his tongue working in harmonising symphony with Grantaire's. He had wanted this for so long. 

"You are exhausted." Grantaire said, knowing - or thinking he did - that Enjolras was only doing this because of his sleepy form.

Enjolras' face fell forward, his lips - once again - landing on Grantaire's. But this time, the younger man's breathing hitched into a calmer form. Grantaire felt Enjolras' entire weight push him backwards, the two of them falling to the floor; Enjolras landing on top of Grantaire, who had still been knelt on the floor. 

Grantaire sniggered a little at the awkwardness. 

"Did we just - fall?" Enjolras asked, his voice soft. Grantaire nodded. 

"It would appear so." 

"I must have - fallen - asleep." Enjolras admitted. 

"And kissed me in the process." 

"Oh no, I didn't." Enjolras blushed as red as his jacket, his entire body was exhausted. He put his hand to his head and shook it. He'd done so well to stay awake, what was it about Grantaire that made him feel so secure? "I mean, I kissed you before, I know that." He said. "Don't think that was my exhaustion coming through." 

Grantaire let out a little laugh. 

"But the second was definitely an accident." Enjolras said, his face still pink. 

"Let's get you into bed, shall we?"

Enjolras couldn't argue, his energy had gone. And his hand ached. Grantaire helped Enjolras into his bed and pulled the blanket over him, ensuring that his head was on the pillow. He looked peaceful there, like he could sleep forever. 

"R-" Enjolras mumbled, his eyes remaining closed. "Sleep with me." 

Grantaire was reluctant at first, this was everything he'd ever wanted. But Enjolras wasn't in his right mind so he didn't want to get his hopes up for them to be crushed again. 

"Please." He tapped the bed beside him. Grantaire complied to his apollo, lying down beside him, his face just inches away from his love's. "Thank you." 

Enjolras threw his arms around Grantaire, pulling him closer so that his nose was in his hair. 

Grantaire fell asleep then, his eyes welling up at the thought of Enjolras being this close to him. He felt the younger man's breathing slow, his breath bouncing gently on his nose. Grantaire was relaxed, his arms entangled around Enjolras.

***

Combeferre walked into the room to check on Enjolras, expecting him to be alone. Grantaire put his finger to his lip to tell him not to say anything, to no avail. 

"Grantaire!" Combeferre rolled his eyes. "Enjolras will murder you if he sees you like this." 

Grantaire snickered. 

"He won't let go of me." He told him. Combeferre examined the scene in front of him to find that, indeed, Grantaire was entrapped by Enjolras' grip. 

"Oh." He furrowed his brow. 

"Honestly, this was not my doing." 

"I barely believe you. But we will see when he awakes." Combeferre said. "Call me in when he does, I want to see his reaction to being forced to sleep beside you." He winked, waltzing out of the room.

Grantaire shook his head and stroked Enjolras' forehead, he was sweating. The thunderstorms had made it near impossible for Grantaire to sleep, but Enjolras had slept right through, clutching Grantaire's shirt with his right hand as tightly as he could in his drowsy state. 

Marius entered next, his eyes scanning the sight before him. He looked lost, like always. And he frowned. 

"Are you joining us for today's meeting?" He asked. "Only, Combeferre is asking."

"Is it that late already?" Grantaire asked, looking out of the window to see that it was, indeed, dark again. He looked at Enjolras' sleeping form, his apollo looked beyond peaceful. "Could you manage without him tonight?"

Marius shrugged. He noted the fact that Grantaire didn't mention himself. He was clearly feeling bad about himself again. 

"Are they coming?" Joly asked, walking in to see the same scene. 

Grantaire shook his head. 

"He's shattered, he needs this rest." He explained. "And I could not come even if I wanted to." 

"But you would not want to." Joly teased. He knew of Grantaire's infatuation with their leader. 

"What does that mean?" Marius asked. 

"Nothing. It means nothing." Grantaire rolled his eyes.

"Right, well we will see you tonight then." 

Grantaire nodded. 

Enjolras stirred, his eyes opening to see Grantaire. He smiled at the other man, his breath close to Grantaire's face. 

"You slept well." Grantaire noted, making Enjolras sniff. He stood up, his shirt untucked and his hair everywhere. He looked ravishing, Grantaire thought. How a man could awake and still look so good was beyond the older man. "Before you get mad - I told the others to go ahead with the meeting without you." 

Enjolras looked infuriated, but kept a soft smile pursed on his lips. 

"Thank you." He said, tucking his shirt in and grabbing a comb to part his hair. 

"What are you doing?"

"I am going down to the meeting." Enjolras told him, his voice unmoving. "We can still catch the last part."

Grantaire sighed. He wanted to stay in bed. 

"You can." Grantaire said. 

Enjolras shook his head and sighed,

"Are you not coming?" 

"No." He said. His head was still aching a little from the alcohol he had taken in the previous night. And he could not be bothered to stand. 

Enjolras untucked his shirt again and climbed back into the bed beside Grantaire, resting his head on the skinnier man's chest. 

"What are you-"

"Hush now, Grantaire." Enjolras put his finger to Grantaire's lip and smiled. "If you are not feeling up to the meeting, then I stay here with you." 

"But-"

"Grantaire, my R, please. Be quiet." He wrapped his arms around the man's torso and closed his eyes, feeling no less than solitude.

Grantaire stared at the ceiling, his heart fluttering. Enjolras had called him 'his R'. That was a big deal.

"Did you mean what you said yesterday?" Enjolras asked. "About seeing my Mother with me."

Grantaire sat up, encouraging the younger man to do so too. Enjolras turned to face him, his legs crossing. Grantaire nodded, and took hold of his right hand. 

"Of course." 

"I love you." Enjolras stated, abruptly. Surprising Grantaire a little.

Grantaire smiled, not replying.

"That just came out." Enjolras blushed.

Grantaire smirked, kissing him again. "I love you too."

***


End file.
